


Distance

by Niko_Niko_Neek



Category: Corpse Party (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fantasy AU, guard/preistess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:08:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22519012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niko_Niko_Neek/pseuds/Niko_Niko_Neek
Summary: Yoshiki is five when he finds the drowned girl.He is sixteen when she is made High Priestess.He is seventeen when he dies for her.
Relationships: Kishinuma Yoshiki/Shinozaki Ayumi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Distance

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry, it ends up okay.
> 
> This is going to be pretty short, probably just two chapters. It could be made longer, but I'm not great at sticking to long-form fics, and don't want to run the risks of abandoning this one. Inspired slightly be the same universe as my other fic, Shelter from Snow. I hope it's not too choppy and that you enjoy it :)

He is five.

The salty air makes the ends of his scarf flap in the breeze, doing its’ best to cut through the thin coat he is wearing. The winter was unusually warm that year, something the elders regard with a quiet gratitude. Even the sisters in the sacred caves are thanking their patron goddess for the good weather and blessings. There had been no snowfall, only a torrential rain that plummeted down on the coast. It’s made the fishing successful, which means his father is out on the boats more often.

He appreciates that. It gives him time to take walks. His mother has told him not to stray too far from the thatched-roof home where they live, so he’s careful to keep the roof in view as he toddles down to the sand. The difference in terrain makes him stumble and pitch forward but the sand is soft and catches his fall.

Yoshiki picks himself back up. He will need to do this for the rest of his life.

His arms splay out for balance as he takes big steps in the sands. His boots make his feet look a little bigger than they are. With each step, the few crabs and bugs scuttle away from him. It makes him grin. He’s a giant monster, and they’re too tiny to do anything about it.

He’s made his way closer to the surf, and he almost steps on the girl before he sees her.

The whitish shape makes him think of a dead seal, and Yoshiki springs backward to land on his bottom in the muddy sand. He’s too fascinated to be distressed, however, and remains where he has landed, grey eyes wide.

She looks like she’s fallen asleep, but it’s a strange place for a nap. There’s a strand of kelp wrapped around her small wrist like a bracelet. A few splintered wooden beams surround her where she lies on her back. Her skin is alarmingly white.

Maybe she’s dead. The thought strikes Yoshiki as both frightening and terribly fascinating.

A raucous caw from a seagull sounds overhead as the white bird lands alongside the washed-up girl. It’s eyes gleam yellow as it inclines his head, tugging at a strand of her hair, like it’s trying to eat her.

Yoshiki frowns and waves his hand at the bird. “Shoo.”

With an indignant squawk, the seagull flaps away, the squawk escalating into the familiar scream pattern the birds are so famous for. The intrusion seems to rouse the girl, though, because she coughs. A bit of seawater trickles out of her mouth, mixing with the sand sticking to her cheek. The sudden movement makes Yoshiki startle a little. He’d been about to poke her to see if she was dead or not.

The girl coughs again, and her eyelids flicker. Yoshiki comes a step closer, drawing himself up to a squat.

“Hey. Hey!” The boy demands. “Where’s your mama?”

There is no response. A few figures are now coming down towards the beach. Yoshiki recognizes one, a young woman with chestnut hair, partially obscured by a white cloth wrapped around her head. The priestesses always wear white, and most of them won’t talk to anyone, but he knows Yui. She’s nice, and gives him candy sometimes to suck on.

Immediately he stands, pointing to his discovery with childish pride. “Look! A girl came out of the water!”

Yui does not seem to share his enthusiasm. Instead, she nudges him out of the way and crouches over the girl, her ear tipped toward her mouth. Yui’s eyes close and she draws a deep breath, palm settled over the girl’s stomach, and a soft light emanates from it.

Yoshiki’s jaw drops. The sisters rarely ever do magic unless it’s something serious-he’s never seen it happen before.

Once the light fades, the girl coughs again. Then, she rolls over and throws up more water. His nose wrinkles. It’s a little gross.

Yui’s hand rubs the little girl’s back as she continues to cough and throw up again. Her face is still white and her eyes, now that they are open, are a clear blue.

Yoshiki takes two steps forward, unwrapping the scarf from his neck. Wordlessly, he holds it in front of the girl in wordless offering. All she does is stare at him, though.

“You’re all wet,” he insists. The girl looks carefully at Yui, who is the one to take Yoshiki’s scarf and wrap it carefully around the girl’s neck. Then, Yui lifts her up. The girl seems to melt into the embrace, her cheek resting against Yui’s shoulder. In no time, she’s sleeping again, which he finds disappointing.  
He is six.

He doesn’t see the girl who came out of the water for several months. He pesters his mother for hours on end, until she gets so frustrated that she shouts at him, but there’s no answer. The neighbor, one of the men his father fishes with, tells him that the girl was sent to live with the sisters in their church. That she’ll be taken in and raised as one of them. It makes sense to him, but he still wonders if she’s able to come out and play like all the other kids do.

Satoshi doesn’t believe him. “You just heard all the grownups talking about it. You probably just made it up.”

Yoshiki glares. “I did! I’m telling you, I saw her!”

The brown-haired boy rolls his eyes. He’s grown taller than Yoshiki, and for some reason, that makes him think he can act like he’s older, even though he isn’t. “Whatever. Come on, let’s play knights.”

There’s no glimpse of her for a very long time. He even hides out near the sacred caves, even though he’s not supposed to go near there, in hopes of getting a glimpse of her. It’s not until a year later, in the spring time, that he actually does.

He’s not looking for her in particular, having given up. Morishige is too busy with his books to play, and he’s mad at Satoshi over a squabble about who got to be the good guy in their game, so he takes the biggest stick he can find and begins a long trek through the trees, whacking at the trunks and bushes as he passes.

It’s getting a little dark, but he’s sure he’ll be yelled at anyway no matter what time he gets home. His parents argue all the time. He thinks it’s because of the baby. Once his mom finally gets the baby out, it’ll all go back to normal.

Hopefully.

The sky is easier to see from the trees, so Yoshiki finds a sturdy oak and begins to climb. It’s relatively easy for him to find foodholds, several branches which are thick enough to support his weight. There’s no fear of heights as he climbs higher, leaves scratching against his cheeks as he focuses.

This is Yoshiki in his element. Unshakable.

He reaches the top and straddles a limb, his knees holding tight on either side as he looks out across the world. The sky is a deep purple, a ghostly evening wind rustling past. He can see the caves, and the ivory church where the sisters live. He can see his village when he turns his head. Below, it’s hard to see the forest floor through the branches, but he can spot one of the statues of the Mother, the goddess that the sisters attend to. It’s ancient stone, crumbling at the edges from centuries of weathering. A few ivy vines grow out of her hair and into the carved folds of her gown. Her eyes are less eyes than they are hollowed-out gaps in the statue’s face. It’s a little bit creepy.

Kneeling in front of the statue is the girl.

He’s not sure how he recognizes her so fast-probably because she’s the youngest person he’s ever seen dressed in the traditional white clothing. Her head is bowed, but he remembers the dark shade of her hair. For a moment, he wonders if it would be rude to disturb her-the prayers of the sisters are important. Everybody said so.

So, Yoshiki waits. And waits. After a little while, his seat starts to go numb and he decides to stop waiting.

“Hey!” Yoshiki calls out. His head, black hair riddles with twigs, peers down through the branches. 

The girl startles and, in the same moment that she jumps to her feet, the limb he is sitting on gives a terrific snap. In a moment, Yoshiki is hurtling forward.

He seems to fall in slow motion, his stomach doing flip-flops. He wonders how badly it will hurt when he hits the ground.

….He doesn’t.

It takes Yoshiki a minute to realize he is hovering above the ground. It doesn’t feel like anything is holding him up, physically, more that the ground has simply refused to rush up and meet him. Gradually, he feels himself lowered, but his legs are so jelly-like that he falls over as soon as his full weight settles on his feet.

The girl has her palm reached out towards him, and a faint blue light emanates from it. She looks as shocked as she is, but there’s a faint fear behind her expression. He’s not sure where the fear comes from. As far as he can tell, he’s just been blessed with a fantastic opportunity for flight.

“How are you doing that?” He demands, getting back to his feet. The girl stares down at her palm, which is trembling slightly.

“.....I don’t know,” she manages. Her voice is so soft he has to strain his ears to hear it. 

“Do it again!” he urges.

“I can’t. There’s not...I don’t get to pick whether or not it happens. It just does.”

The concept seems strange to Yoshiki. It seemed to him that, if you could do magic, surely you must have some say as to whether or not it happened.

“Lemme see that.” Fueled by his bravado, Yoshiki approaches and grasps Ayumi’s wrist, peering down at her palm. It doesn’t look like anything out of the ordinary, but she yanks it away.

“Hey! Let go of me!”

“I was just looking.” 

For a moment, the two regard each other, one studious and unflinching, the other defiant, uncertain. It is by no means the last time they will look at each other this way.

After a moment, Yoshiki breaks the silence. “You should come and see the village. It’s probably more fun than hanging out in front of some boring old statue.”

Her eyes narrow. “It is not boring. I’m trying to do my prayers. They’re important.”

“Sounds boring to me.”

She huffs. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m Yoshiki,” he corrects. “And you’re that girl who almost drowned, right?”

“My name is Ayumi. In case you were going to ask.”

He wasn’t, but it seems like a good thing to know. “Well, are you coming? It’ll be more fun. I’m telling you.”

For a moment, Ayumi looks back in the direction of the church, nervously. “I don’t think I’m supposed to. I’m meant to be back to do my chores soon.”

“So? They won’t miss you for a few more seconds. C’mon, let’s go!”

They do, as it turns out.

It took little time for Yoshiki to round up his friends, all of whom are intrigued by the presence of a newcomer. Even the grudge between him and Satoshi is temporarily forgotten, at least until Ayumi keeps wanting to be on his team rather than Yoshiki’s, which he somewhat resents. He’d found her first, after all.

It’s the head priestess herself that storms onto the beach and interrupts their game. The cloth ball Morishige throws hits the sand with a dull thud, and no one goes to reach for it. Instead, all three stare as the woman approaches with all the ferocity of a thunderstorm. Ayumi’s face goes scarlet.

She isn’t supposed to play with them.

It takes Yoshiki a few years to understand why.

He is thirteen.

His sister, Miki, is five and just learning how to tie her hair back. She’s not very good at it, so she often lets him do it for her. Today, it’s early in the morning-so early that the sun hasn't risen yet, and Miki is practically dozing off as he runs a wooden comb through his hair.

“You can just go back to sleep, you know,” Yoshiki comments. “The boats are leaving soon.”

Miki shakes her head. “I’m gonna go too.”

It’s a stubborn streak that the two of them share, and Yoshiki knows better than to argue. Instead, he concentrates on tying her hair back in a ponytail. It’s brown, much lighter than his.

His pack is full to bursting with all the things he’s going to need for the next three years. Glass bottles filled with milk, fresh water, dried tea herbs and medicine hang off the back of it-gifts from his friend Satoshi’s mother. His own parents have not seemed to display any emotion regarding his departure. In fact, they’re both still asleep.

Miki, however, is a different story.

“You can’t go to the training programs,” Yoshiki corrects gently as his sister turns in his lap to face him. Her eyes are dark and huge. “You’re not a boy, and you’re too little.”

“I’ll cut my hair! If I’m with you, it’ll be allowed, right?”

He shakes his head. “No, Miki. Besides, who’s going to protect the village? I’m going, and Morishige and Satoshi will be off to school. It’ll be up to you.”

Her lower lip quivers, but she gives a solemn nod. Yoshiki guides her off of his lap in order to shoulder his backpack.

“Do you really have to go?” she asks, and her voice is thick with unshed tears.

He knew saying goodbye to Miki would be the hardest part of going away. He might have kindled the dream of being a knight for many years, but compare that to your baby sister giving you the kicked-puppy look, and it pales in comparison.

Yoshiki kneels. “C’mon. I’ll carry you out to the beach, okay?”

The tradeoff is enough for now. Miki is light in his arms. When he comes back, she will be eight years old, and maybe too heavy for him to carry. The thought somehow makes him desperately sad.

The men are already loading up the ship when he walks out onto the beach, travelling back and forth to the boat with crates and barells in tow. He is the only one going to the training camps this year, but there are two others waiting for him.

Morishige and Satoshi both look bleary-eyed with the early hour, but the fact that they are here at all makes Yoshiki grin. He hoists Miki up in one arm and clumsily tries to hug both of them with his backpack threatening to tug him down every step of the way.

“You got the herb pouches Naomi made you, right?” Satoshi asks. “She can’t be here, but she wanted to make sure you got them.”

Yoshiki nods. “I got them. Tell her to stop worrying, and tell everybody I said bye, okay?”

“We will.” Morishige is sollem, the way he always is, and he reaches out to clasp Yoshiki’s shoulder. “Be careful out there. Don’t forget about us.”

“Don’t be stupid. You two are the ones you are going to forget, with all that book-learning.” Yoshiki sets Miki down, but she keeps hold of his leg. “Look after this one for me, though, okay?”

“Sure I will!” Ever the favorite with kids, Satoshi kneels down and smiles at Miki, “Yuka will be so excited to have somebody to play with. I’m sure you two will get along great!”

Miki’s only response is a loud sniffle.

“C’mon, Miki.” Yoshiki pats her on the back. “You said you weren’t going to cry, remember?”

In response, Miki bursts into tears.

“I-wanna-go-o-ooo!” She wails. “I w-want Yoshiki to s-stay he-erree!”

“Damn.” Yoshiki kneels to give her a big hug, but no amount of consolling seems to do any good. One of the loaders waves him aboard-they’re getting ready to cast off.

“Jeez. Listen, Miki, be good, okay? I’ll be back before you know it.”

Leaving his baby sister is probably the hardest thing he’s done so far. Satoshi is quick to pick her up.

Standing aboard the ship, the planks creak underneath Yoshiki’s feet. The cold spray of the sea is probably only going to get worse. It occurs to Yoshiki that he’s going to find out pretty soon whether or not he’s prone to seasickness.

“Kishinuma!! Wait!”

The voice from the shore beckons him to the back of the ship. The sight of Ayumi trying to run across the beach in her prayer dress is kind of hilarious. She’s waving something bright red in one hand. When she finally reaches the docks, she’s out of breath, and clutching at a stitch in her side.

“Don’t tell me they’re letting you have goodbye parties now?” Yoshiki asks. Honestly, he’s startled by how lanky Ayumi has become over the years, how thin her face is. The last time he’s seen her, she’d still been short and round-faced.

“I came to return this. Yui said you’d given it to me.”

It’s only then that Yoshiki dimly registers the red scarf Ayumi is holding out to him. He remembers it faintly-he was too little to have very vivid memories of that time.

“Then I must’ve wanted you to keep it.”

A shrill whistle from one of the sailors heralds the cast-off. Ayumi stands and watches the boat begin to receede.

For a moment, he hopes she’ll say more. She’s still holding the scarf, somewhat limply at her side. Then, she cups a hand around her mouth.

“Be careful climbing!”

That makes him grin. He waves until she grows smaller and smaller, and soon, he can’t see any of them at all.

He is sixteen, and comes home covered in healing wounds.

It’s the Midsummer festival, and he’s been alloted to return home for the season. He no longer carries the pack he’d been sent away with, instead bearing a wooden shield and broadsword in its’ place. The sound of the ocean waves continue marking time.

That much, at least, has no changed.

Yoshiki, however, has.

Even seeing his own watery reflection in the surface of the ocean, he looks taller and angrier than he was when he had left. His brow furrows in a permanent scowl that rarely lifts. His shoulders have grown broader.

He has learned much over the past three years, and one of them is that he is not meant to be entitled to kindness.

Uneasiness settles in his stomach as the boat draws into the docks. The flicker of the large bonfire that his village has lit at every celebration is visible from the shore, glowing orange within the trees. The sounds of drums and music can be heard from the beach.

There’s a girl standing in the sand with one hand on her hip. He, at last, breaks into a grin when he sees her.

“You got tall, Miki.”

She has. She’s shot up like a weed. When she hears his voice, she breaks into a full run, hurtling over the side of the ship to wrap her arms around him in a big hug.

She fills him in as they walk, though not much has happened. Their parents haven’t discussed him much. Miki is hopeful they’ll see him and reconsider. Yoshiki is not so hopeful. Satoshi and Morishige have not returned from school, but Naomi and Seiko are there to greet him, along with Mayu. All three have grown taller, and he feels a warmth grow in his chest at the sight of them all.

After being shouted at for three years straight, it’s nice to be among friends.

They all but drag him along to the celebration, and Seiko even gets him to dance with her, even though he isn’t very good. Eventually, she trades him for Naomi and Myu, and he stands with his arms folded, watching them all have their fun.

He doesn’t recognize Ayumi, when he sees her.

She’s taller, for one thing, and seems far more somber for another. She’s standing with two other white-dressed sisters, and though she smiles while in discussion with her, they are treating her with a reverence that Yoshiki doesn’t understand until he sees the silver necklace glinting at her throat.

Miki catches him staring, and leans in to whisper. “Oh, yeah. Ayumi inherited being the Head Priestess now. Didn’t I tell you?”

A High Priestess. The most sacred position one could ask for. The channel between the physical and the spiritual, sworn to a life of devotion and study. 

He banishes a few select thoughts from his head. “No,” he replies. “No, you didn’t.”

The crickets chirp in staccato when he goes for his evening walk. He’s far from the last one up. Though the girls have gone to bed, a few of the adults are still talking by the dying embers of the bonfire, in quiet voices, drinking and reminiscing. Twigs crack beneath his boots when he walks.

Everyone has changed. He feels pride when he thinks of Seiko and Naomi’s drive to become healers, Mayu trying to write ballads, but there is a certain loneliness that comes with it. Scratching his jaw, however, Yoshiki figures he’s far from the loneliest person on the coastal village.

To be given such a position before a person was of age had never happened before. The implication is severe. Thinking back, he wonders if it has something to do with her magic, the thing she’d said she’d had no control over.

Speaking of, a glance upwards reveals the same oak he had fallen from nearly ten years ago. It’s still standing as solid as ever, save the missing limb at the very top. He chuckles a little despite himself at the recollection.

“Hopefully, you’ve gotten better at climbing.”

The voice from behind him makes him jump, and Ayumi’s eyes glint with amusement. His face feels warm, and he’s not sure why-probably the fact that she snuck up on him when he’s supposed to be able to detect things like that.

“You came out of nowhere.”

“Hardly.” She crosses in front of him in order to approach the statue, which has somehow gotten even more debilitated over time. “I was just going the same direction as you. Whether or not you heard me is another matter entirely.”

There’s a strange kind of assertiveness to the way she talks, though that’s partially to do with the large words and proper phrasing she keeps using. He watches as she brushes some stray leaves from the statue, touch nearly tender. Then, she faces him.

“....You got taller.”

Yoshiki smiles. “You got shorter.”

To his relief, she smiles back. “You carry that sword with you everywhere now?”

“Something like that. I at least know how to use it.”

They fall into step beside each other, on the dirt road that leads to the church. “You’re the leader there now, huh?”

His tone is light, but he’s not all that surprised to see the way her expression darkens in response. “The former Priestess died the year after you left. She chose me, for some reason.” Ayumi draws a breath, her hand drifting absently to the silver pendant around her neck. “I don’t know why. I was fourteen.”

“She must have had some reason to think you’d do well.” It’s hard, trying to make her feel better. At one time, he might’ve snuck her desserts or something to cheer her up, but that was nearly four years ago. They’re older. Things are different.

“Is it...Okay for you to be walking with me like this?” he asks, hesitant.

“It’s not a nunnery, Yoshiki,” Ayumi replies with a small chuckle. “Besides, we’re not doing anything.”

She’s right. But he still isn’t sure.

He’s seventeen when he returns.

Things have changed over the previous year. He’s learned, secondhand, that Ayumi is actually incredibly important. He’d been right in his instinct all those years ago-it was unusual that someone so young had been able to produce magic. It means she’s important-a bridge between worlds. A channel to the Mother.

They call her Priestess. Silver-Witch. Guardian of the Statues.

When he is assigned to be her guard, after three assasination attempts, he calls her Shinozaki.

It is startling to be looked at with such abject resentment when he kneels in front of her to pledge his service. Her eyes are narrowed with disapproval, and she doesn’t look at his face for very long. The process is practical rather than ceremonial. When it is over, she tells him to stand.

And, under her breath, she says, “Don’t think I need you.”

Within the span of one year, Ayumi has become someone he no longer recognizes.


End file.
